Deja Vu
by csi101
Summary: Set six months after Nicks abduction. Nick versus wasp.
1. Chapter 1

**Time for a new story!! Please take a second to review it once you've read the chapters. It gives me the motivation to keep going and, as anyone who has read my other stories knows, I don't tend to know where my stories are going until I get there...so advice and feedback is greatly appreciated. **

Chapter One

It was nearly midnight and Gil Grissom stood from the hard plastic chair and stretched stiff muscles. He had been sitting in the waiting room of the Desert Palms emergency room for almost 6 hours and his back was complaining severely. Sighing, he did a lap of the waiting room, trying hard to ignore the many other potential patients who perched in varying states of unhealthiness on their respective plastic chairs.  
Riffling through a stack of old and worn magazines - many missing their covers - he selected one and returned to his seat. Pursing his lips, he flicked through the pages, not really interested in the stories within.  
Seven hours earlier...  
The day had been relatively normal. Grissom, Sara and Nick had been processing a homicide scene in the basement of an older style house twenty minutes outside of Vegas. Sara had been processing the rest of the house while Grissom and Nick had finished off the basement. David Phillips had just left the scene with the body.  
Nick straightened up from his crouched position and stretched his back as he looked around the basement, which was being lit by a combination of a watery, low watt, bare light bulb, and the high powered lanterns which the CSI team had brought with them. He could smell the mouldy, stale stench of neglect behind the sharp, metallic odour of fresh blood, and studied the discoloured walls. There were areas of severely cracked and crumbling plaster with mud insect nests cemented into corners and spiderwebs draped freely around the room. He glanced over at his boss and silently thanked having the quiet companion there with him. He had never been really fond of either small spaces or the dark and, since his abduction 6 months earlier, found even entering the bleak basement difficult. He doubted he would have lasted very long processing it by himself. He suspected Grissom was very much aware of his trepidation and was grateful for the respect he showed by staying close by but not advertising Nick's vulnerability to the police who still combed the scene...or to Sara.  
He watched as Grissom fossicked among ancient furniture along the wall of the basement. There was a bookcase and chest of drawers, all covered with a deep layer of dust, and stacks of cardboard boxes, stuffed full of papers and documents, clearly discoloured and worn. A shelf, partway up the wall, held yet more containers. Grissom photographed the various areas of the room and examined the contents of the various boxes and containers. He had finished with one box and pulled a second one away from the wall when he noticed a small hole, partially covered by a third box, which had clearly been man-made as it was almost perfect in shape and very different from the various other misshapen cracks and holes which had appeared from age and neglect.  
He squinted in thought as he pulled the third box away. the hole was partway up the wall and not the usual place for a hideyhole - it would have been in plain view were it not for the boxes. Pulling the boxes away, however, proved to be a mistake. A mud nest had been obscured behind the box - wasps had clearly constructed their home using the box and the hole for support. As the box was pulled away, the nest disintegrated, and a swarm of wasps poured from the hole.  
Grissom gasped in shock and fell backwards on his heels. The wasps swarmed past him and through the room. Nick took a swipe as several flew past his face, which succeeded in aggravating the insects further. The more aggravated the wasps became, the more agitated Nick became and swatted harder through the air. He felt the sharp sting of one wasp on his arm and another on his hand.  
"Nick!" called Grissom, getting the younger mans attention with the firmness in his voice. "Don't move! They won't sting you if you leave them alone."  
As much as Nick hated doing it, he stopped waving his arms at them and stood still. The strategy worked after several long seconds and the wasps moved on.  
Grissom pushed himself heavily to his feet and walked to Nick.  
"Did you get stung?" he asked, concern clear in his voice.  
Nick nodded and showed him his arm and hand. Frowning, Grissom peered at the sites and, with a quick but gentle flick of his finger, brushed the stings out of his skin. Still frowning he gave Nick another appraising look.  
"Are you alright?" he asked  
Nick gave a short nod and, almost instantaneously, felt his face flush. He could feel his heart rate increase. A burst of intense nausea hit him and he felt heat flooding right from his centre and flowing rapidly to every corner of his body. It all happened so quickly that Nick didn't have time to register what was happening. But then he felt the uvula at the back of his throat and he realised what was happening. He became aware of the fact that it was taking more effort each time to breath in and he was having to use his accessory muscles more and more.  
A burst of panic flared as the reality of anaphylaxis set in. He had developed anaphylaxis 6 months earlier after his abduction and subsequent fireant exposure but had, thankfully, already arrived in the emergency department and, therefore, the symptoms had been treated rapidly and had not added significantly to his distress. Here, however, the symptoms were progressing frighteningly fast and help was not immediately at hand.  
He heard, almost distantly, Grissom's calm voice calling for an ambulance, and felt strong hands take hold of his shoulders and guide him back wards until his back hit the wall. His knees buckled and he felt the hands quickly move to grab underneath his arms and support him the rest of the way to the floor. He ended up on his butt, his knees up in front of him and his back resting against the cool wall. He continued to struggle to breathe and felt the skin of his tongue, lips and eyelids begin to tingle. He felt the hands back on his shoulders, gently anchoring him to the present. Sweat was dripping into his eyes and making it difficult to see properly but he saw Sara's form drop to her knees beside him and felt the coolness of her palm rest against his hot cheek.  
His chest was aching terribly with the effort of breathing. He had a sudden urge to try and stand upright again, hoping desperately that it would help the battle in any small way. But, the hands held tighter when he tried to push up and held him still. The panic which had been bubbling at the surface erupted. Nick started clawing desperately at his neck, tearing wildly at the T-shirt material, his throat too swollen to make any sound other than strained sobbing grunts. He started rocking, slamming his back against the wall before rocking forward again and repeating the movement. The sweat was almost blinding him.  
He faintly heard Sara's soothing mantra, shushing him, while stroking his wet hair and trying desperately to calm him, knowing the agitation wasn't helping his respiratory effort.  
The strong hands left his shoulders yet again and clamped onto either side of his head. Bringing his hands up suddenly, Nick swiped at his eyes, clearing the sweat enough to see outlines, but his vision still impacted by his swollen eyelids. Then he heard his boss' soft, calm voice.  
"Nick?"  
Nick stopped struggling quite so badly and settled just a little.  
"Nick, you need to listen to me. We're getting an epipen. That will get us enough time for the ambulance to arrive. You need to relax as much as you can and concentrate on your breathing. We're going to do it together, alright? You're going to be fine, pal. Let's breathe together, alright? In.........Out........In.........Out."  
Nick tried hard to follow his boss' instructions. He squashed his eyes as tightly shut as he could manage given the swelling and concentrated with all his might on deliberate breaths.  
He didn't open his eyes when he heard the heavy steps of someone running to their side and slamming down next to them on the floor.  
Nor did he open his eyes when he heard a deep male voice gruff out, "We found the epi, sir." and heard the rustling of plastic being pulled of the device. He even kept his eyes firmly shut when he heard Grissom's calm voice again.  
"OK, pal. Relax. I'm going to inject the epipen now and you'll be OK, alright?"  
He felt a punch to his thigh but didn't notice the sharp needle.  
Again, he felt the strong hands go back to his shoulders and heard the calm voice counting out the breathing pattern for him again. It seemed to take hours, but finally, he felt the crushing weight against his chest start to lift ever so slightly and it wasn't such an intense battle to draw breath.  
He could breathe again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Again, please review. It only takes a second but the happiness I get from reading a review (good or bad....yes, I am a very needy person!!) always lasts long enough to generate another chapter ; )**

Chapter Two

Nick kept his eyes closed as the battle for breathing lessened ever so gradually. The strong hands continued to anchor him for which he was eternally grateful.  
Suddenly he became aware of more movement in the room. A couple of paramedics, arms laden with large equipment bags and an oxygen cylinder made their way into the room and headed straight to Nick and Grissom. The cavalry had arrived.  
The hands left his shoulders and he opened his eyes - surprised to note that his vision had improved with just the epipen shot. The paramedics smiled at him and introduced themselves before starting to ask a stream of questions.  
Did he know he was allergic to wasps? No. _Never had been before_.  
Did he have any other allergies? Not that he knew of. _But then after this, who knew?_  
Was his breathing improving? Yes. _But then anything was easier than that! _  
Had he used an epipen before? No. _Well, who knew what they had used in hospital._  
While asking the questions, the paramedics were busy taking Nick's blood pressure, starting an intravenous line in his arm and setting him up with an oxygen mask which delivered delicious, sweet oxygen. Despite the plastic aroma he relaxed a little more at the feel of the oxygen filling the mask and making its way deep into his lungs.  
He felt cool fluid being injected into the vein in his arm. God, he was exhausted. He felt like he'd just run a marathon. His breathing was immeasurably easier but the ache in his chest continued despite the crushing weight having lifted. He took a strong, deep breath and brought a hand up to rub over his face, partly due to tiredness, partly due to relief.  
After several more minutes, the paramedics stood and looked down at Nick.  
"Mr Stokes," one of the medics said, "Are you feeling strong enough to walk out to the ambulance? We will help you out, but we can't get the stretcher down into the basement."  
Nick closed his eyes and took another deep, steadying breath.  
Did he feel up to walking out to the ambulance? No. He didn't. In fact he doubted he had the strength to do much at all at the moment. But, it had to be done.  
Opening his eyes again, he nodded wordlessly and tried to push himself to his feet. Grissom moved forward and, with him on one side and a paramedic on the other, they hauled Nick to his feet and held him upright.  
The sudden movement upwards, the unsteadiness of his gait and the drugs which he had received through the IV flared the nausea again and he paled visibly as sweat once again appeared on his skin. He felt Grissom's hand tighten in sympathy and took a couple of deep, ragged breaths to try and keep the contents of his stomach from coming up. Another minute to regain his strength, and they started the walk to the stairs.  
The going was painfully slow with Grissom and the paramedic both having to support Nick's weight more and more as they progressed. He shuffled along like an old man. They stopped briefly at the bottom of the stairs and Nick cast a bleak look upwards. Another short break to build up his stamina and they started again. The narrowness of the staircase make it awkward and the men found it easier to progress sideways so that Nick continued to have physical support. Grissom felt his young colleague shuddering unconsciously with the effort of pushing himself up the stairs but the Texan pushed on with an unrelenting stubbornness which astonished him.  
Finally, they made it into the foyer and out into the front yard. The evening Winter sun was sitting low in the west but still provided enough light for them to see unaided. The second paramedic ran ahead of the trio and pulled the stretcher from the back of the ambulance, lowering it enough for Nick to collapse almost painfully down onto. His breathing had tightened up again and he was gasping as though he had just run a mile in a full sprint.  
He squeezed his eyes shut again and, when the paramedic raised the back of the stretcher upright, he rested back against it gratefully, chest heaving and sweat, once again, running rivers down his temples. He sucked on the oxygen greedily, but it was as if someone had turned down the flow. The panic started again as his airways once again started to close over.  
More cool fluid in the IV and more soft, murmured words of comfort.  
He couldn't help but struggle against the tightness in his throat, but he was tiring rapidly and was moaning on each breath with physical pain and exhaustion. His head lolled against the stretcher head.  
The paramedics lifted the stretcher and pushed it into the back of the ambulance, one climbing into the back and the other starting to close the doors.  
"Wait." Grissom's cool voice floated to the back of the ambulance. "I'm going with him."  
The paramedic nodded and re-opened one of the rear doors.  
Grissom turned to Sara.  
"Can you finish up here? Take the evidence back to the lab and I'll call you when I know what's happening with Nick."  
Sara nodded and the look on her face reminded him vividly of the night Nick was found. The same shell-shocked look, a raw mix of fear, relief and adrenaline.  
It was happening all over again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Firstly, THANKYOU to everyone who gave me feedback!!! I appreciate each and every one. You are all AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Secondly, my apologies for the cramped writing of the last two chapters. I used a new online spellchecker and it adjusted all my writing. SO I haven't bothered with this one. **

Chapter Three

Grissom sat silently on the bench in the back of the ambulance and watched as Nick's breathing started to settle again after the second dose of adrenaline. He was still relying on his accessory muscles to draw in a breath, but the awful sound of him suffocating had diminished and a slight audible wheeze was all that remained.

The paramedic had started him on intravenous fluids to increase his blood pressure and added continuous salbutamol nebulizers through the oxygen mask as Nick threw one of his arms over his eyes and sat back, physically spent, against the stretcher.

The paramedic sat up towards the front of the ambulance keeping one careful eye on Nick while he started on the paperwork.

"How's that ventolin working for ya, Nick?" he asked.

Nick's head nodded slightly underneath his arm and Grissom noted the slight tremor that had taken over his body. Whether from the ventolin nebulizer or exhaustion or from the shock of the past half an hour, Grissom wasn't sure. Probably a combination of all three, he thought.

"You able to talk yet?" the paramedic asked.

Again, wordlessly, Nick just shook his head slightly from side to side.

"OK," he continued before looking over at Grissom. "Sir, can you help me out with Nick's past medical history? Is that alright with you, Nick?"

Nick was feeling too miserable to care so settled for a slight shrug and nod, still not removing the arm from across his eyes.

Grissom glanced between Nick and the paramedic.

"Uhh......OK." he replied, "but I'm not sure I'll be much help."

"As much as you can do, sir, will be fine." The paramedic replied. "Date of birth."

Grissom thought for a second. He knew the date but was not sure of the year.

"February 18, 19.....7...0?" Grissom guessed.

Nick held up a shaky single finger.

" '71." Grissom corrected.

"OK," said the paramedic, "Does Nick have any other allergies that you know of? Any medications or tapes or anything."

Grissom looked over at Nick for some guidance, but got nothing. He was pretty sure Nick didn't have any allergies to tapes, at least.

"Uhh...none that I know of." Grissom offered.

The paramedic nodded and continued.

"Any past medical history?"

Grissom looked over at Nick a second time. He felt uncomfortable discussing this in front on him.

"He, uh, had significant exposure to fireants 6 months ago," Grissom started. "He developed anaphylaxis post exposure but was already hospitalised and treatment was immediate."

The paramedic glanced over at Nick in sudden recognition before glancing at Grissom and back to his paperwork. It was clear he had heard about his abduction. There would be very few people in Las Vegas who had experienced 'significant exposure to fireants' in recent memory – in fact, Grissom suspected, there would only be one.

"OK.' The paramedic wrote ferociously for a second then looked over at Nick, "Anything else I should know Nick?"

The arm finally came away from his eyes and he swallowed hard before pointing to his lower right abdomen.

" 'pendix out." he mumbled in a hoarse voice. "Ten years 'go. Tha's it."

"Good job." The paramedic said, "Let's see if your blood pressure's come up with those fluids."

A blood pressure cuff was wound around his non-IV arm and inflated. Frowning, the paramedic looked at the figures on the automated BP screen and readjusted the rate of the fluid running into Nick's arm.

Pulling the stethoscope from around his neck, he encouraged Nick forward and listened to his chest.

"Chest sounds a lot better, Nick," he said. "Still got a clear audible wheeze, but at least you've got some decent air movement happening now."

Grissom offered a thin smile.

"You're looking a lot better now." he said. "How are you feeling?"

Nick brought a tired hand up, pulled off his oxygen mask and scrubbed at his face.

"Like I nearly died." He murmured.

Grissom raised his eyebrows in surprise. He couldn't argue with that.

"Chest is achin'."

"Better keep that oxygen on, Nick." the paramedic said, replacing the mask, "Your chest will probably feel like an elephant sat on ya for a while. You've been working out muscles you don't tend to use too much and the combination of epinephrine and adrenaline will get your heart working overtime. We'll be at Desert Palms in a few minutes. Relax back and enjoy the ride."

Nick gave a humourless snort under the mask.

Yeah.

Relax and enjoy the ride.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the delay in posting this next chapter! Uni really cuts into my writing time. But, another chapter up and please, please review. **

Chapter Four

True to the paramedics word, it was only a short time later when they arrived at Desert Palms hospital.

Grissom trotted behind the stretcher as they wheeled Nick through the doors to the emergency room, but was stopped by a nurse before he could enter the cubicle and was escorted to the almost full waiting room.

And there he was, six hours later, still waiting.

"Gil Grissom?"

Grissom looked up from a National Geographic magazine he had located, cover missing and pages torn. A receptionist was gesturing for him to follow through the door which separated the waiting room from the ordered chaos of a busy hospitals emergency cubicles.

"Mr Grissom," she started, "Mr Stokes has asked for you to be listed as his point of contact. If you would like to come through, his treating doctor would like a word with you. We're preparing Mr Stokes for transfer to the wards now. We have a bed for him on ward 4C."

Grissom looked at her in surprise.

"You're admitting him?" he asked. He realised that he had fully expected that after a six hour wait, Nick would have been walking out to the waiting room ready for a lift home. He didn't really know why he thought they would discharge him after the severity of the reaction, but he had honestly believed he had been waiting to drive Nick home.

The receptionist stopped and glanced at him.

"Yes, Mr Grissom, we are admitting him at least for the next couple of nights."

Grissom looked even more surprised.

"Mr Stokes' doctor will explain the situation."

Grissom frowned. _The situation? _

The receptionist pointed Grissom to the entrance to a cubicle. The curtain was pulled around and he could hear a woman's voice speaking in soft tones and the gravelly, tired voice of his colleagues answer.

"Mr....Grissom?" a tall dark haired man asked.

He wore a white coat and had a stethoscope draped lazily around his neck. Obviously 'the doctor' that the receptionist had referred to.

Grissom nodded and extended a hand in greeting.

"Yes, doctor. I'm Nick's supervisor. How's he doing?" Grissom replied.

The doctor raised his eyebrows slightly and reached a hand out to Grissom's arm, encouraging him to move closer to the wall and out of the way of an EKG monitor being wheeled being with some urgency down the corridor. Grissom shuffled out of the way quickly.

He continued as if the interruption had not occurred.

"Mr Stokes has had - as I know you witnessed – a severe allergic reaction to a hornet's sting. I've read his notes from his previous admission and it seems that the fireant exposure back in May has caused his body to respond with severe anaphylaxis with the introduction of any venom – being fireant, bee or wasp."  
Grissom nodded slightly as he took in the information.

"I have suggested strongly to Mr Stokes that we admit him and do a series of skin tests over the next day or two to ascertain what other factors will trigger this type of reaction." the doctor said. "Once we isolate the venoms which will trigger the allergic response, we can –hopefully – start desensitising him to try and reduce the likelihood of further life-threatening attacks of anaphylaxis in the future."

Grissom nodded, closed his eyes for a second and brought a hand up to pinch at the sockets in tiredness. It hit him all of a sudden just how tired he was.

He opened his eyes again and stretched the muscles of his eyebrows before offering the doctor a weary smile.

"Thank you, doctor." he replied. "Can I see him yet?"

The doctor nodded and directed Grissom to the still curtained off cubicle.

"Sure," he said, "his nurse is just getting him ready for transfer, but you can see him for a minute before they head up to the ward."

The doctor turned and walked away and left Grissom standing awkwardly behind the curtain.

It felt so very familiar to six months earlier, when he had stood in the same hospital's Emergency Department waiting to see Nick after his rescue.

And yet, it felt so different.

There were parents here then. Nick's welfare had ceased to be his responsibility once he was pulled from the grave and packed off to hospital in the back of the ambulance.

Sure, he had been concerned about him. He had visited him several times in the hospital. He had gone to great lengths to work with psychologists and medical professionals – granted, much of it done without Nick's knowledge – to make sure he was fit physically and mentally to return to work.

He had controlled the controllables.

But this....this was different.

Grissom no longer had control of this situation. He had been one of the crowd six months earlier. He had been able to blend in with the many concerned friends. He had been able to camouflage his social inadequacies by following the lead of the others.

This time was different.

He was alone.

Nick was his responsibility.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I really appreciate it. Gives me that bit extra motivation to put study aside and write another chapter (although I'm struggling through a statistics assignment at the moment so it doesn't take much to side track me!!).**

**OK, Nickyfan, a bit of Catherine coming up in the next chapter – just for you and your wonderful reviews!**

Chapter 5

Summoning his courage, Grissom cleared his throat to warn of his impending arrival and slowly peeked open the curtain.

The nurse had finished up with Nick and smiled encouragingly at him to enter, before picking up his charts and ducking out of the cubicle.

Grissom glanced at Nick who was looking at him with slight surprise.

He looked substantially better than he had 6 hours earlier.

There was the slightest touch of redness still visible around his eyes and the remnants of deep, red scratch marks could be seen around his neck where he had been clawing at his throat before the ambulance had delivered much needed oxygen. He still looked pale and tired – not helped by the stark white gown he was wearing – but he was much more alert. A bag of intravenous fluid was running its contents into his arm – the needle of the IV securely taped down - and the oxygen mask had been replaced by nasal canulae.

Grissom gave him a small, tight smile.

"Hey." It was short, but to the point.

"Hey." Nick answered. His voice still sounded terrible – gravelly and dry.

"How're you feeling?" he asked.

Nick shot him a look as if to say '_are you serious?_'

Grissom smiled again – more genuine this time and relaxed a little.

"Right. Don't ask, hey?"

Nick gave a short, humourless chuckle.

"The doctor said they're keeping you in for a few days – they're going to give you a skin allergy test and try and desensitize you."

Nick looked down and gave a very short nod.

"That'll be good." said Grissom.

A lengthy pause and Nick nodded again – still not looking up.

Silence.

Grissom really didn't know what to say next. He had always been awkward with small talk. He never saw the point in talking about the obvious. It was tedious for him. And it certainly was not going to do Nick any good. Practical. That's what the situation needed, he thought.

"Would you like me to call your parents?" he asked.

This elicited an immediate response with Nick.

"No!" he blurted out, head snapping upright and the rough voice making him cough. "No." he managed once the cough had settled.

He held Grissom's gaze a moment longer before dropping his head back down.

"Mom'll just worry and want to get the first plane out to Vegas."

Grissom shrugged with his eyebrows and watched him a moment longer.

"Is that a bad thing, Nick?" he asked, "A mother's concern is borne out of love."

Nick glanced up quickly, confusion etched clearly on his face.

Grissom shrugged at him.

More silence.

Grissom shifted uncomfortably moving from one foot to the other.

Thankfully, the nurse pushed aside the curtains at that moment and smiled at Nick.

"All set?" she asked brightly.

Nick returned her smile but without the sincerity that was projected by the nurse.

He was too damned tired to care about sincerity.

"Cool." She continued, apparently oblivious to the coolness of the room. "Your bed's ready upstairs. Let's go."

Grissom moved to the bed head and gave Nick's shoulder a gentle squeeze as the nurse bundled his belongings underneath the trolley ready for transport.

"Take it easy, pal. I'll drop by tomorrow to see how you're doing." he said quietly, then checked his watch and adding with a wry smile, "Make that today."

Grissom walked back out of the main part of the emergency department and through the doors to the waiting room. He had barely set foot back in the bustling area when he saw Catherine. She was sitting in one of the plastic chairs flicking through the pages of a coverless gossip magazine, attention flitting between the mindless stories on the paper in front of her and the menagerie of various ills surrounding her.

Her head snapped upright as Grissom came through the door and, tossing the magazine down onto the adjacent chair, she pushed herself up and strode purposefully towards him.

He raised his eyebrows at her in greeting and answered her question before she had time to ask it.

"He's OK, Catherine." he said, "He's being admitted for a couple of days for allergy testing and desensitization, but he's stable and looking a lot better than he was a few hours ago."

Catherine stood with her hands on her hips. Her hair glowed red under the fluorescent lights of the waiting room. Grissom tried not to cringe under the intensity of her stare. God, she could be intimidating at times, Grissom thought.

"Would it have killed you to have called me, Gil?" she snapped. She looked as tired as he felt.

A look of confusion crossed his face and he shrugged. Truth be told, it hadn't occurred to him to call anyone until he knew what was going on himself.

"Sorry, Catherine." he said, "I guess I didn't think about it. I figured I'd just wait and see what the doctor said."

Catherine rolled her eyes and brought a hand up to flick her hair back and away from her face.

"No, I'm sorry, Gil. I'm just a little overtired and..."

"Worried about Nick." Grissom finished for her.

She gave a wan smile and raised her eyebrows momentarily.

"Yeah," she said, "I'm worried about Nicky. Again."

**PLEASE REVIEW.........PLEASE?!!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Another chapter done! Thanks again to all the reviewers. It's very much appreciated. And please don't stop now...any little scrap of reviews will be gratefully accepted. Even a couple of words will do. Anything. **

Chapter Six

It was just after 7am when Nick woke from the first deep sleep he'd managed all night. He had suffered through a fitful sleep after being transferred up to the ward. Regular blood pressure and oxygen saturation checks through what remained of the night was enough to rouse him from sleep almost hourly.

His eyes fluttered open and it took him a moment or two to remember where he was. He brought a hand up to scrub wearily at his eyes and he looked around his private room.

His eyes found Catherine almost immediately, sitting quietly in a plastic chair in the corner of the room watching him.

He gave her a hint of a smile and managed a gravelly "Hey."

She pushed herself up from the chair and brought it closer to the bedside, sitting heavily back down and reaching to give his hand a squeeze.

"Hey." she answered.

"How long have you been sitting there?" he asked, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth as he tried to suppress a yawn.

Catherine gave him a tired smile and stretched her back against the plastic chair, a hand moving to rest against the small of her back.

"Long enough." She said wryly.

Nick pushed himself up into a sitting position and Catherine smiled, pushing herself out of the chair and picking up the remote controls to the bed and bringing the head of the bed upright so he could rest back against it without being uncomfortable.

"Thanks." He mumbled.

Catherine perched precariously on the edge of the bed and took hold of his hand again.

"You've got to stop worrying me like this, Nicky." she said softly, giving his hand a squeeze.

Nick gave a humourless snort.

"Gotta stop worryin' myself, too." He muttered.

Catherine gave a tight smile and rubbed her thumb against Nick's knuckles.

"Well, you're OK now. That's all that matters." she said.

Nick was silent for several long moments, carefully studying the light fittings in the ceiling.

"You OK, sweetie?" Catherine asked.

Nick gave a small nod and dragged his eyes back to Catherine's.

"You know what they're gonna do to me today?" he asked.

Catherine looked at him a moment longer before answering.

"Grissom said the doctors are going to give you a skin allergy test. I guess that means they're going to scratch your skin and introduce allergens to see your response. Once they identify what you're allergic to, they can start treating you to get you desensitised and reduce the risk of this happening again."

Nick looked at her bleakly.

"So, they're gonna expose me to the very thing that put me in here in the first place." He said bluntly.

Catherine frowned at him and squeezed his hand again.

"Nick, they need to do this. We need to find out what's going to make you react this severely."

"I know that Catherine." he said in frustration. "But, I don't want to have to go through that again."

"Which is why you have to do this, Nicky." She said calmly. "It won't be as bad as yesterday – you'll be under observation the whole time. The first sign you're struggling and they'll give you treatment."

But Nick didn't look placated.

"It's horrible, Cath. It feels like I'm on fire on the inside and then comes up into my throat and I can't breathe. It's scary as hell."

Catherine rested a gentle hand against his cheek in comfort.

"Honey, it'll be OK."

Nick's eyes welled slightly and he brought a hand up to scrub at his face.

"I know, I know." He murmured under his breath.

They sat in silence for several long minutes – Nick quietly resting against the soft pillows and Catherine stroking his cheek before returning her hand to hold his again.

"Grissom said you didn't want him to call your parents. Do you want me to speak with them?" she asked.

Nick shook his head slightly from side to side.

"No."he said, his accent becoming stronger the more he tired. "Mom'll freak if she knows I'm back in here. She was a mess when I was in here last time."

Catherine smiled at him.

"She's your Mom." She said simply. "I hate to tell you, Nicky, but your children are always your babies – no matter how old they get. And you're her youngest! You have no chance!"

He huffed out a chuckle.

Silence descended again – but it was a comfortable silence this time.

After several minutes Catherine spoke again.

"Would you like me to come back and sit with you while you have your desensitisations?" she asked quietly.

Nick ducked his head down for a second and nodded slightly.

"Would you mind?" he asked

Catherine smiled and leant forward to give him a tight hug.

"Not at all, sweetie. Not at all."

**OK, a bit smaltzy at the end but something to leave you with while I tackle my assignment. There may be another delay until the next chapter is posted so apologies in advance. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the long wait for an update. Unfortunately, there will probably be another fair wait until the next chapter too. Sorry. But...lots of reviews might help me put aside my assignments and write more chapters instead : ) I apologise in advance for the medical side – I was making it up with what he would be allergic to – I have no idea if there is a difference between red and black ant venom – but let's just pretend there is. This is a bit of a nothing chapter but it's got Nick and Catherine so I know at least Nickyfan might be happy : D**

Chapter Seven

Nick dozed on and off for the few hours it took Catherine to get back to the hospital.

She amazed him. She must have had a couple hours of sleep at most but looked as refreshed and awake as if she had slept for eight hours. She marched into his room and gave him a radiant smile. She sipped on a large cup of coffee and held another in her free hand.

"For you, sir." She teased as she placed the cardboard cup theatrically on his over bed table.

He smiled in gratitude.

"Thanks," he said, "I need this. The coffee here is rubbish."

Catherine raised her eyebrows as she took another sip from her cup and nodded. She had her own memories of hospital coffee and wondered if the hospital coffee served to the patients was as foul as the sludge in the waiting room.

They sat in a companionable silence for several minutes – Catherine pulling up a chair, and Nick sipping at his coffee – before a nurse appeared at the door. She smiled at Catherine before turning her attention back to Nick.  
"Are you ready to start the sensitivity test now your friend's here?" she asked.

Nick shrugged with a worried smile and nodded.

"As ready as I'm gonna get." He replied.

Catherine smiled at him warmly.

"You'll be fine, sweetie." She said confidently.

Nick nodded again.

"Yeah, I know." He said quietly.

Catherine, still smiling, reached out and caught his hand, giving it a brief, tight squeeze.

Sudden noise at the doorway drew both of their attention. The nurse had re-appeared – this time with a silver wheeled trolley filled with a kidney dish of small syringes and needles, and an assortment of vials standing upright in a row. In a separate kidney dish was another vial and another set of needles and syringes.

Nick tried to suppress the wince that flickered across his face as he took it all in, as Catherine jumped up out of her chair and moved it out of the way.

The nurse moved the trolley in next to the bed and reached behind it to set up an oxygen mask on the nozzle at the wall.

Nick's breathing increased slightly at the sight of the mask and he felt Catherine's hand take his and give another gentle squeeze. He squeezed back – silently thanking her for the support.

The nurse took a towel from the bedside table and, folding it a couple of times, draped it over the adjustable bedside table which she positioned over the bed.

"Right, Nick." She said, "I need you to rest your arm on the towel for me and we'll get started."

Noticing Nick's anxiety, she smiled at him again.

"Just try and relax, Nick. This is no biggie, really. First sign you're struggling and we'll jump in and give you some help."

Nick nodded and held out his arm, forearm facing up on the towel.

The procedure was quick and relatively painless. The nurse made several deep scratches along Nicks arm and numbered them, then proceeded to place a drop from each of the vials at their corresponding number. Almost instantly, a couple of the drops formed big red welts at their sites. As the redness spread, Catherine squeezed his hand tighter as he clearly fought against the urge to itch.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight and chewed at his bottom lip.

Catherine moved out of the way once more as the nurse came around to her side of the bed and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Nick's free arm and attached an oxygen saturation probe to his finger. Documenting the results on his chart she glanced back at his face and was pleased to see him relax a little. Taking out a pen she outlined the red mark on his skin and, taking a tape measure from the top of the trolley, she measured the diameter of the marks and documented this too on his chart.

"That's round one's over, champ." She said brightly. "No great surprises here. You've got a severe allergy to bee, wasp and red ant venom and you've had a significant reaction to common black ants as well."

Nick shrugged and brought a hand across his forearm to rub gently at the irritated area. _'What was the point of that?'_ he thought bleakly. He already knew about the wasps and the red ants. He doubted there was any form of insect left that he wasn't allergic to.

"But," said the nurse, smiling, "The good news is....you're not allergic to nuts or eggs."

Catherine snorted a laugh but stifled it quickly when Nick shot her a glare. She countered by wrapping an arm around his head and bringing her cheek to rest on the top of his head in an affectionate hug.

"Sorry, Nicky," she whispered as she hung onto him, "but you've gotta admit, you were due for some good news...and it is a little funny."

Nick smiled.

He loved Catherine. No matter how low he felt, she could always bring him out of it with a hug and a motherly joke.

"Now, Nick," the nurse started, "we're going to have to make a schedule for when we start the desensitisations. We'll have to run your appointments over a couple of weeks so your body gets a rest in between courses."

Nick's face fell.

"But...but I don't have to stay in hospital that whole time, do I" he asked anxiously.

The nurse smiled at him again and shook her head.

"No. We wouldn't do that to you. Besides, we need the bed." She said. "However, we will start desensitising you tomorrow so you'll probably have another 2 nights in hospital depending on how you react to the needles."

"Awesome." Said Nick under his breath.

**Please review. I know I sound like a broken record but it really does motivate me to keep writing. **


	8. Chapter 8

**My sincere apologies for the lateness in posting this next chapter – and many thanks to those who offered a hurry up : ) Half year exams are finally done so I have a little more time to write for the next couple of weeks and will try to catch up a little with this story. Some awesome reviews coming through and a few from people who haven't reviewed my stories before so many, many, many thanks! Just a brief disclaimer – in the desensitisation parts, I have tried to write it using my own experiences but we may do it differently here to what is done in other parts of the world. Also, I don't come from the USA and don't have any real understanding of American Football. So apologies in advance for any inaccuracies in football terminology or player names etc. **

Chapter Eight

The welts caused by the skin test had subsided almost completely by evening and Nick finally succeeded in having a good night's sleep. He woke and had showered before the breakfast trolley had arrived and, by the time Catherine arrived late in the morning, he had already walked to the gift shop in the foyer, purchased and read a copy of the newspaper and a National Geographic magazine and was roaming the corridors to offset the boredom. He had been in hospital a handful of times, and only twice before as an adult – and both times he had been discharged before he was well enough to have the energy for boredom. This time, however, he felt physically fine and he was not the sort of person who dealt well with sitting doing nothing.

He ran into Catherine on one of his many laps of the ward and she smiled at his enthusiastic welcome and listened patiently as he chatted away, happy to have the company.

She had anticipated his boredom and had brought him a couple of books to make the time go even a little faster.

Not that she needed to worry too much. They had only just made it back to his room when a nurse arrived with yet another shiny silver trolley with yet more equipment packed onto it.

Nick became very quiet suddenly and Catherine gave him a motherly rub along his back as she ushered him back to his bed.

The nurse checked that the oxygen mask was connected up to the wall outlet and was working well and Catherine noticed another nurse positioning the resuscitation cart outside of his room. She was relieved that Nick hadn't noticed - he was too preoccupied with checking out all the needles on the cart.

"OK, Nick." said the nurse, "Let's get started, shall we."

Nick gave a small, tight smile and nodded his head.

The nurse wrapped an electronic blood pressure cuff around Nick's right bicep and attached an oxygen probe to his index finger. She wiped an alcohol swab on a small section of skin on his arm and drew up the starting dose of the allergen while the area on his arm dried.

"OK," she said in a sweetly chipper voice, "a small sting."

Nick barely felt it as the needle slid gently underneath his skin.

"All done."

He stayed resting back against the pillow and waited – acutely aware of the ease in which he was breathing, and waiting for any of the tell tale signs that his airway was starting to close.

Catherine sensed his wordless anxiety and reached out to grab his hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Hey, how about those Cowboys?" she said brightly.

Nick gave her a confused look.

Catherine shrugged innocently.

"Well isn't that what you guys talk about? Football?"

Nick chuckled under his breath and raised his eyebrows. She wanted to play...fine, he'd play. With luck it would take his mind off what was happening.

"They're doin' OK." He replied. "Don't think we'll make it to the Bowl, but we've had a few good wins lately. Young Brady's been a good find – shapin' up to be one of our key players. So, who's your team, Cath? Never knew you were into football."

Catherine laughed and gave his hand another hard squeeze.

"I'm not, Nicky. You know I'm not. Apart from watching cute guys running around a field, I have no interest in football."

The automatic blood pressure cuff inflated as she spoke and caught Nick's attention again.

"You feeling OK?" she asked

Nick nodded his head and shrugged.

"Yeah. So far, so good."

The afternoon continued with Nick having regular injections of slightly higher concentrations of the bee venom. Each time, his anxiety would increase slightly and Catherine had to start a new line of conversation to keep him distracted. Having ditched football, she got him talking about his family, his childhood, life in Texas, his previous job in the Dallas PD...anything to keep his mind off the injections. It worked well until the second last injection of the day when she noticed his breathing rate had increased and he was starting to wheeze slightly as he breathed in.

He noticed at the same time and instinctively closed his eyes tight and brought a hand up to pull unconsciously at the neck of his top.

Catherine got to her feet quickly and brushed a hand maternally across his forehead.

"OK, Nick. Hang tight, sweetie. I'll get you some help...it's OK."

She stood in the doorway and flicked a quick glance at the nurse's station to find the nurse she was looking for before focusing her attention back to Nick.

"Excuse me," she called, loud enough to get the nurses attention without adding to Nick's anxiety, which was rapidly rising, "We need some help in here please."

The nurse and an accompanying doctor were in the room almost instantly. Catherine stood back and watched as the nurse dialled up a good flow of oxygen and fixed the mask over Nick's nose and mouth, while the doctor gave him a shot of adrenaline and another of phenergan. The nurse pressed a button on the blood pressure monitor and the sound of the cuff inflating filled the room. She spoke quietly to him while she eased him forward and the doctor placed his stethoscope to his back and listened to his breathing.

Nick was still clearly distressed as he struggled to draw in breath. The speed of the onset of symptoms horrified Catherine. It astounded her that he had been fine seconds earlier.

She watched as he slowly stopped struggling – his breath starting to come a little easier.

Finally, his hands dropped away from his neck and he collapsed back against his pillows – eyes still closed. He was still using his accessory muscles, but he had at least started to relax.

The doctor said a few quiet words to the nurse before heading out of the room, giving Catherine a small smile as he passed by her.

The nurse continued to assess Nick's vital signs and documenting them in his charts.

Catherine moved up to the side of the bed again and reached out to rest her hand against the side of his head, gently stroking his sweat drenched hair.

Brown eyes opened and glanced up at her. The fear which had been radiating from them had gone – replaced by weariness.

She offered him a small smile.

He tried to give one back but failed - his lip quivered slightly and he screwed his eyes shut tight again as he tried hard to remain strong in front of Catherine.

She continued to stroke his hair, not saying anything until he regained control. It was one of the many changes that she had noticed in Nick since his abduction. Previously, he had been very open with his emotions. She could make him get misty eyed at the drop of a hat. She would often do it to tease him, knowing she would get a reaction. She had seen him become emotional over many things – child murder cases, which were hard on everyone, to bad football results. It was one of the many things she respected about him – that he was a strong man who was not afraid to show his emotions openly. But since his abduction, he had tried so hard to lose that. He would cover his emotions with bravado – so desperate to avoid appearing weak.

It worried her. His emotions were his release valve. It was different for everyone. Everyone coped in their different ways. But without being able to show his emotions, it worried her that he would become burnt out. That, eventually, the nature of their work would take its toll on her favourite Texan.

She watched as he dug his fingers deeply into his eye sockets.

Finally he pulled them away, but still didn't look directly at Catherine's face.

"OK?" she asked quietly.

He gave a short nod.

"It's OK to be scared, Nick. No-one is going to think any less of you for being frightened when you can't breathe."

Although she had meant it as a way of alleviating his embarrassment, it seemed to agitate him even more.

He rubbed a hand almost viciously against his forehead, screwing his eyes tight again. With his free hand he lashed out and shoved the over-bed table so that it careered away sending the half glass of water tumbling to the floor spewing the water onto the floor.

The nurse exchanged a glance with Catherine before heading out to find a towel to clean up the water.

"Nick, look at me."

He crossed his arms belligerently and looked away.

This pissed Catherine off. She adored him and knew he was still traumatised by his abduction, but a sulky tantrum was the domain of a toddler not an adult. She wouldn't let Lindsay get away with it and she was damned if she was going to let him get away with it either.

"Hey!" she said, her voice sharp – trying to snap him out of it. "Nick...enough!"

He dropped his head down and mumbled a quiet apology.

Catherine glared at him a second more before softening.

"It's OK." She said softly.

He reached up and pulled the oxygen mask off, tossing it down onto the bed sheet before looking up to finally meet her gaze.

"I'm just so damn tired of all this." He said. "I'm tryin' to get on with my life, Cath, but I feel like it's always with me, ya know?"

Catherine gave a silent nod.

He paused for a brief moment before continuing.

"Y'know what I told Kelly Gordon when I went to see her?"

Catherine was startled by the mention of that name. Gordon. She never wanted to hear it mentioned again – too many memories attached to it.

Nick didn't wait for an answer.

" 'Dont take it with you' " he said, breaking the eye contact and focusing instead on his hands. " 'Don't take it with you' is what I told her and yet I can't seem to get away from it. It's always at the back of my mind."

Catherine frowned slightly.

"Nick, you went through hell. Everything isn't going to get back to normal overnight – it's going to take time. A lot of time. You'll carry scars the rest of your life but it doesn't have to ruin your life – you'll grow from it and get stronger."

Nick chuckled suddenly.

"You sound just like my shrink." He murmured.

Catherine shrugged.

"Well, you weren't the only one to get counselling, you know."

Nick shot her a surprised glance but left the comment alone.

Catherine rubbed his upper arm gently and gave it a squeeze.

"Your allergies are one of the scars, Nick - but they will fade. They are treatable. These desensitisations will give you back control - they will make the symptoms manageable but it's a tough thing to go through. I know you get frustrated. Just don't take it out on us with anger, OK? Talk it through. Anger's like a cancer – it'll eat you up. You know I'll always be there. I'm a good listener."

Nick brought a hand up and rested it over hers on his bicep.

"I know." He said, "and I really appreciate it."

**A long chapter this time – I hope this makes up for the looooooong delay in posting it! Now, while you're reading this, please click the review button and let me know what you thought of it. Please. It's not hard. Go on. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Again, many thanks for the reviews. They are very much appreciated. Just a short chapter to conclude this story this time. A bit of an abrupt ending but, you know. I didn't want to overdo the Nick angst too much and I think it was pretty much all done. **

Chapter 9

After Nick's adverse reaction to the higher dose allergen, the decision was made to suspend the desensitisation for 24 hours and to recommence at a slightly lower dose the following afternoon. He had recovered relatively quickly with the early administration of adrenaline and phenergan, but it had wiped him out. Catherine sat with him quietly until his eyes lost their battle to stay open then, taking a spare blanket from the bedside cabinet, she draped it over him carefully, tucked it around him, and headed home to get some much needed rest.

As she left the hospital, she called Grissom to fill him in on the afternoon's events. She told him about how Nick had done so well up until the penultimate dose and how frustrated he had become – although she left out the details of their short conversation.

Grissom was Grissom. Matter of fact.

"Well, he might just have to work in the lab until he finishes the desensitisations." He said bluntly.

Catherine rolled her eyes.

"Gil, he's had these allergies for the last six months and has been working in the field. Just because we know about them now doesn't mean he's at greater risk than he was two days ago."

She was tired. She always became snappy when she was tired. But then, Grissom also had the uncanny ability to draw out her irritability at times.

"True," he replied, "but maybe we've just been tempting fate."

"Gil, we can't wrap him in cotton wool." Catherine said. "He's frustrated enough now."  
There was a long pause where she could hear him let out a sigh.

"So what do you suggest?" he asked finally.

"I suggest we talk about it tomorrow." She replied. "I need to go home. I'll come into the lab tomorrow morning and we can sort out a strategy."

Grissom smiled and ended the call.

Twenty four hours later, Grissom and Catherine stood by Nick's bedside. He had successfully completed the remaining shots of the bee desensitisation without further incident and was feeling brighter than he had for the previous couple of days.

"So," said Grissom "We have two options."

Catherine took a seat next to Nick's bed and waited for Grissom to continue.

"One." He started. "You work in the lab until you've completed the entire course of desensitisations. No field work."  
Nick's face fell.

"But, Gris, the docs say the complete course will take at least 6 months." He whined. "That's not fair."

Catherine shot Grissom a smile and rolled her eyes while Grissom held up a placating hand to Nick.

"Or," he continued, "Two. You continue to work in the field. Brass is organising training for the uniforms on how to deliver adrenaline through the epi-pen. Our team will also have to be trained up. And you can't work solo until you've completed the whole course."

Nick didn't look thrilled with this option either.

Catherine took hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze.

"It's not negotiable, Nick." She said quietly. "We both know how important working solo is to you, but we can't risk you being alone and going into anaphylaxis."

Nick gave a one shouldered shrug before dropping his head heavily back against his pillow.

"It's not that so much..." he mumbled before bringing his head back up to look at his two colleagues. "Is it really necessary to have everyone trained up?" he continued quietly.

Grissom maintained eye contact for a moment – noticing the younger man's vulnerability. Embarrassment reflected back in Nick's eyes.

"It is." he said simply.

Nick's head dropped back against the pillow again and he threw his arm across his eyes as he thought about the two options presented to him. Catherine and Grissom stood silently with him – letting him digest it all.

Finally he dropped his arm back down on the bed and looked back up at his boss with a small nod.

"Alright." He said quietly. "Deal."

Grissom raised his eyebrows in an amused shrug. He really didn't think that Nick was in a position to broker a deal – but if it made him feel better he certainly wasn't going to challenge him. Truth be told, it had gone significantly better than he had anticipated. He had expected Nick to have put up more of a fight – to plead bargain his way to a less suffocating outcome. But, Grissom suspected that he realised he really didn't have any other options. Still, he thought as he and Catherine bade Nick farewell and headed down the hospital corridor, he doubted the Nick he had known a few years ago would have given up without a challenge. He was a changed man. He had matured significantly over the past couple of years. And Grissom felt a sudden surge of unfounded pride in him. He hoped that he had contributed to it in any small way.

Catherine glanced at him and smiled at his reflective look.

"Our boy's growing up, Gil." She teased.

Grissom gave a quiet chuckle.

"Yes." He said simply. "Yes, he is."

THE END

**Thanks for reading! Please consider writing up a review. I know there will be some people a little put out that it ended so abruptly and apologies for that, but I really don't think there was much more left to say for this story. I have some more stories I hope to write soon, but may be a bit of a delay as uni starts again in a week or so. **


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